A Christmas Tradition
by Starsky's Strut
Summary: A small glimpse into why Hutch has issues with Christmas.


All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors, they are entirely mine.

I dedicate this story to the entire Hutch-like "I hate Christmas and its euphoric sentimentalism" crowd, bah-humbug, right back at 'cha! _(WINK!)_

**A Christmas Tradition  
**By Starsky's Strut

_December 22_

"Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg! The Batmobile popped a wheel, and the commissioner broke his leg!" Starsky's Brooklyn accented voice rang through the pine forest.

Hutch gritted his teeth and trudged on through the snow, doing his best to ignore his vocal friend.

"Jingle Bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg! The Batmoblie popped a wheel and the Joker got aaaaway! That is until the handsome detective and his fiery red Torino caught him aaaannd put him aaaawaaay for life!" the brunet finished with a flourish and grinned at his partner.

"Starsky, that doesn't even rhyme." A puff of white breath warmed by Hutch's lungs escaped as he spoke and it rabidly rose in the frigid air. "I hope you're done now so I can start to enjoy the beauty of the forest. In silence." He shot his friend a pointed glance as he adjusted the ax on his shoulder.

"Hutch, please tell me again why we are in the Great White North, walking in a foot of snow, freezing our asses off all for the sake of some mysterious 'Hutchinson family tradition'?"

Hutch rolled his eyes and kept walking "It's no mystery. It's so we can pick out a tree for the den. Besides, the Great White North is in Canada, not Minnesota.".

"Coulda fooled me." The curly haired detective groused. Then his tone brightened "But it's not just any old tree we're here to get, it's a _Christmas_ tree, right?" Starsky stressed the word 'Christmas'.

"Yeah, right… Christmas." Hutch inhaled the cold winter air, closing his eyes for a moment as he took in the scent of pine and snow. Christmas hadn't had much meaning to him in a very long time. Not since his grandparents had died.

"So if this is a tradition, why isn't everyone in the Hutchinson clan out here with us looking for a tree? And since they're not, why don't you start a new tradition and go to a tree lot and buy one?"

Hutch sighed, "That's not the tradition. The tradition is to find a tree in the woods, chop it down and bring it home."

"Oh… well who would know if you went to a lot and bought one? I mean we drove all the way out to these woods. They wouldn't have a clue if you did that."

"I would know Starsk."

"Oh." Starsky was silent for a few seconds pondering that, then "Hutch?"

The blond kept moving, looking for just the right tree. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right and find the perfect tree. "Yeah Starsk?"

"I'm gettin' snot sickles."

"Snot sick-? Yuck! Wipe 'em off."

"With what? I'm not exactly packin' a box of tissues here." There was the sound of Starsky patting his parka pockets.

"Use your sleeve then."

"My sleeve? Eew… what am I? A barbarian?"

Hutch didn't bother to answer that one. He just continued on looking for a tree.

"Hey Hutch! It's cold out here… I think I know why they're called pine trees."

Hutch closed his eyes for a moment and bit "Oh? Why is that?"

"They 'pine' to be where it's warm!" The brunet chuckled at his own pun.

Hutch groaned.

Starsky paused to rub his arms "I'm turnin' into a penguin. How do they stand it? Ya know, this is why I moved to Bay City. It's warm. It doesn't snow. Now I know snow is all Christmassy, but it's too cold. Now if scientists could just come up with a way to make warm snow, well I would be all for that! Could you imagine? Warm snow! No worries about frostbite or snot sickles." The brunet laughed.

Hutch tried to let the sound of Starsky's constant chatter fade into the background. It didn't fade; it was constant, like the crunch of their boots in the snow, but not nearly as pleasant a sound.

A light snow began to fall. The wind picked up slightly, swirling the flakes about. Hutch inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell and the sounds of wind whispering through the pines.

"Hutch, it's snowing."

The blond paused mid stride, then continued.

"Hutch, didn't ya hear me? I said 'it's snowing'."

The blond gripped the handle of the ax tightly and kept walking, trying to recapture the moment of simply enjoying nature and its sounds. A blue jay flitted through the trees not five feet in front of him. He smiled at the sight.

"Yo Blondie! It's sn-"

Hutch whipped around and glared at his friend "Yes, I heard you! Twice! It's snowing! Yes! So that's what that white stuff is falling from the sky. It's snow, great! Wonderful! Now that we both know what that stuff is, could you SHUT UP? Please? I have been listening to you chattering on, singing god-awful Christmas carols and that damn 'Batman smells' song for the past hour or so! Don't you EVER shut up? I just wanted to come out here, find a nice tree and take it home to put in my family's den. I didn't to come out here to listen to you sing, chatter, complain or talk. I just want to enjoy myself, in _silence_." He turned back around and stomped off through the snow, still fuming. The day was ruined.

He stopped about twenty feet later when he realized that he didn't hear the sound of Starsky crunching through the snow behind him. _'He better not be lost.' _He looked over his shoulder to see Starsky standing where he had confronted him.

His partner stood in the snow, toboggan rope in his hand, shoulders slumped and a stunned look on his face. Hutch rolled his eyes. _'Great, now I've hurt his feelings… Christmas always brings out the best in me.' _But he just couldn't shake his mood didn't want to placate his partner.

Starsky always did this to him, tried to make him feel guilty about hollering at him. Hutch felt manipulated and snapped "C'mon! Whatd'ya waitin' for? Let's get goin' it's cold out here." He turned back around and continued. It wasn't long before he could hear Starsky crunching through the snow behind him. _'Good, that'll show 'im I won't be manipulated. Who does he think he is anyway? I didn't ask him along. He invited himself. Serves him right.'_

The snow got smaller in size and fell faster. The wind picked up at bit as he continued his search for the best tree to take home.

It was well over an hour later when Hutch finally found the tree he wanted. Starsky had managed to keep his mouth shut the whole time. It was a miracle, a real gift. Hutch smiled to himself. _'Yes! He can be taught!'_ he thought triumphantly. _'This is the best gift he could have given me, silence…'_ his smile broadened.

"Ha!" He grinned at his friend. "This is the one! Look at it… it's perfect." He set the ax down in front of him and put his hands on his hips for a long moment, admiring his find. "It's a blue spruce. It'll look great in the den. Well, I'd better hurry and cut it down; the weather's really turning now."

Starsky nodded and said nothing.

Hutch grinned and picked the ax up and took a few practice swings to warm up his muscles and to get a rhythm. He shot a look over his shoulder to make sure Starsky was out of the way "It's been a long time since I've done this." He swung the ax in an arc and missed the tree. "See? I'll hit it next time!" He joked as he swung again, harder this time. The angle was wrong and the ax bounced off the tree and sliced deeply into his left leg, just above his boot. "Aaaah!"

Hutch fell backwards and landed butt first in the snow. He continued to groan in agony as he looked down at the damage. The blood was dripping rapidly into the snow, coloring it red. He reached down to grab his damaged calf muscle, but Starsky beat him to it.

The brunet carefully pulled the torn jeans away from the wound to expose it. He took a firm grip just below the knee and put pressure there to slow the flow of blood. He took Hutch's hand and grabbed it, placing it where he had his right hand just below the knee joint. Hutch understood and pressed hard to slow the flow of blood. Starsky would need his hands free to make a dressing to bind the wound.

Hutch gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control the pain. He listened as Starsky quickly shucked his winter clothes to get to his t-shirt. He could hear Starsky's teeth chatter as his pulled off the t-shirt and shredded it. "Starsk! Put your clothes back on before you freeze! You can't help me if you get hypothermic."

He cracked open an eye in time to see Starsky roll his eyes and quickly put his sweaters and parka back on. Hutch shut the eye once more as soon as he saw Starsky pull up the zipper on his coat. Then he settled for struggling to ignore the pain of his leg.

He felt everything as Starsky made quick work of bandaging the injury. The white of the t-shirt soaked rapidly with red. Starsky slapped his hand down on the wound and pressed hard, using direct pressure to stem the flow along with a tight grip to the point just below his knee. The pain was tremendous and Hutch fought to keep his hands to himself, knowing that Starsky was doing the correct thing, even though the pain made him want to scream and rip his friend's hands away from the wound.

Hutch could feel his world go fuzzy as the forest started to slowly spin around him. Sweat beaded on his forehead and lip as he struggled to stay conscious. He lost that little battle and darkness closed in.

XXXX

Hutch awoke to the sound of a toboggan sliding over the snow. It sounded really close. He cracked open his eyes and blinked. It was dark. Then he realized a tarp was partially covering his face. He moved his hand to push the tarp away but found his hand didn't move. He was wrapped up in the tarp. Tarp? Memory returned quickly, filling in the blanks. _'Oh, that's right, I brought a tarp and rope to wrap the tree in'_ He thought woozily as he struggled a bit and pulled his arm free, and pushed the tarp away from his head. A cold clump of snow fell onto his face. "Starsk?"

The sled stopped immediately, Starsky moved into his visual range and crouched next to him. Hutch could see relief and concern shadowing his partner's face. Starsky brushed the snow off of his face and loosened the rope and the tarp so he could move a little more freely. He nodded his thanks and looked about. It was getting dark outside and the snow was falling hard. A gust of wind caught the tarp and snapped the now loose end. He shuddered with the cold gust as snow slapped at him.

Starsky silently reached up and tugged the tarp back over him and folded it over so it came down to his eyebrows. Hutch watched as his friend slowly looked around. The dark curls that poked out from under his heavy knit cap were covered in ice. Another bitter gust hit them. It was already near-whiteout conditions. "I think we're in for a blizzard."

Starsky nodded in response.

"We're lost, aren't we?"

Again Starsky nodded.

"Why aren't you talking to me, Starsk?"

A single dark brow rose slowly.

"Oh… right. I told you to shut up. Since when do you ever listen to me?"

His friend gave him a hurt look.

"Fine… you do listen to me. Okay, so listen to me now. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry I told you to shut up. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Apology accepted?"

Starsky looked him in the eye and slowly nodded.

"You're not gonna talk to me right away, are you?"

Starsky shook his head no.

"You're gonna give me the silent treatment, aren't ya?"

Another firm nod, followed by an arched eyebrow and a quizzical look.

"I guess I deserve that. I'm cold, and yes, my leg still hurts. The weather is too bad to travel any further; we'll just get more lost. We need to find shelter." He craned his head up and looked around. The driving snow and darkening sky did not allow for much. Hutch could only make out the pines in about a ten-foot radius.

Starsky leaned over and picked up the ax from the side of the toboggan and looked about.

"What're you gonna do with that?"

His partner gave it an experimental swing.

"Oh no, I don't want you to hurt your-…" Hutch trailed off as Starsky gave him a hurt look. He sighed. "Okay Paul Bunyan, have at it."

A playful grin quirked across his friend's lips.

Hutch was amazed. After a few false starts, Starsky had a nice rhythm down and felled several pine trees like a regular lumberjack. With some suggestions from Hutch, Starsky built a shelter made of a fallen pine tree, tied together with the rope and the branches made up the walls and floor. He had even made a small backrest, of sorts. Starsky helped Hutch off of the toboggan and into the shelter; he then secured the sled in the front opening, using it as a door.

By now it was completely dark outside and the wind was howling. Hutch's teeth began to clack loudly in the small shelter. They were out of the snow and wind, but it was still freezing cold in the small shelter.

Hutch heard Starsky move closer and felt him open the tarp he was bundled in. "Hey…" He stopped. His friend must have some plan. He allowed Starsky to take the tarp. Starsky removed the tarp from around him and in a few moments, had it situated so they sat on part of it. Starsky leaned back against the backrest and pulled Hutch in front of him, settling him between his legs and he wrapped the tarp around them both. He slowly rubbed Hutch's arms and shoulders to help warm him. Starsky's body was still quite warm from his exertions.

For a long while they sat there and slowly Hutch's teeth quit chattering with cold. "Thanks Starsk." He could feel Starsky nod and he gritted his teeth. "Look, I said I was sorry, okay? I'll say it again, I'm sorry I yelled at you. I'm sorry I told you to shut up."

"Why?"

"Why what?" It came out sounding petulant, even to his ears. "Why did I tell you to shut up? Or why did I yell at you?"

"Yes"

Hutch sighed heavily. "So now you're going from the silent treatment to mono syllabic on me, huh?" He could feel Starsky's body shake as he silently chuckled.

"Yep"

"Great."

"Why?"

Hutch groaned. "All right, fine. Why did I yell at you? My grandfather used to bring me out here to get the family tree. We never talked. He would lead the way and I would pull the toboggan, the same one you were pulling today, as a matter of fact. We just spent time together. We didn't have to talk. I kinda wanted to recapture that today. I rarely come home anymore and I didn't know when or even if I would _ever_ get the chance to pick out a tree again. Father is thinking about selling this land for development. I had hoped that one day I might bring my son or daughter here and… aw, never mind, it was a stupid idea."

"No it's not. Ya shoulda said something. I woulda kept my mouth shut." Starsky's soft words were full of empathy.

"I don't think that is physically possible. Well, I do now, of course." Hutch's snickered.

Starsky ignored that remark as he placed his hand on his friend's shoulder "I don't think it's a stupid idea at all. Traditions are one of the things that I like best about Christmas. And this was the _only_ tradition I've ever heard you talk about, and I ruined it for you. I'm the one who should apologize."

"No buddy, I could have said something and I didn't. Now due to some klutziness on my part, we're stuck out here."

"It shouldn't be for too long. Once you don't return, your parent's will send out a search party." Starsky shrugged. "We're outta the wind and off of the snow. We can last a few hours until they find us."

Hutch laughed nervously.

"What?"

"Ah…"

"Whaaat?" Starsky drew the word out.

"Well, um… that's just the thing…"

"Whaaat?"

"Um… I didn't tell anyone we were coming here." Hutch laughed nervously again. He could feel Starsky tense up behind him.

"You didn't…?"

"Nope."

"So, buddy boy… just where do they think we are? I did hear the tail end of your conversation with your father. He said 'Well don't be all day about picking one out.'"

"H-he" Hutch coughed to cover his stutter "He did want me to get a tree… from a lot. But I wanted to get one last one from here."

"No one knows we're here?"

Hutch gave him a weak chuckle. "Heh-heh"

"Terrific."

XXXX

_December 23_

The next day dawned brisk, clear and cold after the blizzard. A new pristine blanket of snow lay over a foot deep on the grounds of the Hutchinson estate.

Richard Hutchinson did not care. His son was currently the subject of a search and rescue operation, thus exposing his family to possible scandal and most defiantly the unwanted attention of the media. His breath hissed angrily out through his clenched teeth. Why didn't that damn boy just stay in California, where he belonged?

He glared up at the large painting of his father over the mantelpiece. "This is all your fault you know; you were always too soft on the boy. You and your soft ways… You weren't soft on me, but by God you coddled that boy… Couldn't be that nice to me when I was growing up, nooo… You went soft in your old age, said you were trying to 'make amends.' But you couldn't get me to go along with it, could you? But you filled _his_ head with your traditions, until I beat them out of him after you died… or I thought I had. I sent that boy out for a tree, a short, simple task…" He drummed his fingers on his desk.

Richard shook his full head of gray hair and turned away from the portrait in disgust. A thought then entered his mind and he peered over his shoulder at the portrait of Kenneth Richard Hutchinson, the first. "Those damn pine woods!" He slammed his fist hard onto the surface of his mahogany desk then picked the phone and dialed the contact number the sheriff had given him.

XXXX

Hutch could hear Starsky's harsh breathing over the sound of the toboggan gliding over the snow. "Hey buddy, time for a breather." He hated that his friend had to pull him along on the sled, but he couldn't walk, he had tried and had broken open his wound again. They got the bleeding to stop; now the only way to keep it like that was for him to ride along like a lump on the toboggan while his partner did all the work.

The sled stopped and Starsky flopped down in the snow beside him. "Shouldn't be too long now…" he panted. The white of his breath curled up into the still morning air. Thankfully it wasn't windy, but it was still cold.

Hutch sat up on the sled and looked around "Hey! You did it partner! I think I see the road through those trees…" he pointed excitedly.

Starsky gave an exhausted "Yay!" and once more picked up the toboggan rope and started to pull it in that direction.

XXXX

After battling the snow drifts for nearly a mile, they broke from the forest and found themselves surrounded by a crowd of people and vehicles. Police cars, fire trucks, an ambulance, a media van, trucks and snowmobiles where cluttering up the parking lot of the public land. The activity slowly came to a stop and the group turned to stare at them.

Starsky smiled and waved while shouting "Hey! What's goin' on here?"

A man, a sheriff, judging by the brown coat and brown pants with a yellow stripe running down the seam, stepped forward, "We're just about to go looking for two lost men." He looked down at Hutch on the toboggan. "Kenneth Hutchinson, I presume?"

At Hutch's slow nod, the sheriff turned back to the crowd and hollered, quite unnecessarily, "FOUND 'EM!"

XXXX

Hutch sat in the back of the ambulance as the paramedic examined his leg. He was avoiding eye contact with his father, who was standing just behind the medic and glowering at him.

Starsky sat on the bench seat across from him and he was thoroughly enjoying the ministrations of a petite redheaded paramedic. He looked up for a moment and winked at Hutch.

Hutch smirked back before his father cleared his throat in a warning fashion. He knew it wouldn't be long before the man lay into him about 'creating a scene'. It wasn't like he intended for any of this to happen, it just had. He heartily wished he were back in Bay City right now.

"May we have a moment alone?" Senior Hutchinson asked the ambulance crew with the utmost politeness. "I'd like to see my boy in private." His tone implied that he wanted to have a warm, private, reunion.

"Oh, sure… but we'll need to take them to the hospital to check for frostbite and hypothermia and your son's leg will need several stitches…" Ted, the male medic informed the Senior Hutchinson. Ted and the redhead exited the vehicle.

"Kenneth-" Richard stopped and stared pointedly at his son's partner and raised a single eyebrow. "I said I would like a '_private'_ word with my son."

Starsky smiled and nodded "I heard you." He didn't move.

"Well…" Richard tipped his head to the door.

"I said 'I heard you.' However, I'm not _listening_ to you." Starsky smiled and folded his arms across his chest, obviously settling in for the duration.

Richard turned his back on the man. He knew better then to say or do anything else. He looked at his son "What is the meaning of this? I sent you on a _simple_ task, go to the lot and buy a tree for the den. What do you do? You, in a fit of euphoric sentimentalism, go to Father's pine forest to cut down a tree for old time's sake, before I sell it for housing lots. What were you thinking?"

Hutch could see Starsky winding up for a verbal retaliation when the back double doors of the ambulance burst open. Lights blinded the three men.

"Hi, I'm Bobbie Whitehall with WDUL, Duluth television!" The female reporter piped, oblivious to the tension in the ambulance. "I just wanted to have an interview with you two. Mr. Richard Hutchinson! What a pleasant surprise! You must be relieved to find your son after he spent a harrowing night out in that blizzard."

She barely paused for air when she turned to Hutch "Kenneth, you don't mind if I call you Kenneth, do you? Well Kenneth, what were you doing out there in the woods yesterday before and your friend got lost?"

An idea popped into Hutch's head in that moment and he hid his smile. "Well Bobbie, I was going to get a Christmas tree off of my grandfather's land. My good friend David Starsky was with me. At any rate, I wanted to get one last tree before my father donates the land to expand this public forest." He smiled warmly up at his father, then turned back to the reporter. "My father has wanted to donate that land for years, but I wouldn't let him… but, this year, he convinced me that it was the right thing to do."

Bobbie Whitehall inhaled, "Why Mr. Hutchinson! What a gift to the community! How very generous of you, this is quite unexpected, why that tract of land is worth a great deal of money."

Richard Hutchinson nodded and pointed towards the door of the ambulance. "Please, let's discuss this elsewhere, shall we? My son needs to go to the hospital now." After the reporter and the cameraman exited, he glared over his shoulder at his son and then turned away to fill in the reporter. He shut the doors without making further eye contact with his son.

XXXX

"'Euphoric sentimentalism…' so, that's where that comes from." Starsky looked from the closed doors to his best friend.

Hutch shook his head. "Yeah, the apple didn't fall far from the tree."

"Yes it did. Light years away." Starsky nodded emphatically.

Hutch laid down on the gurney and put his arm over his eyes.

"Your dad is pissed. I'm proud of ya, I bet your granddad is too."

"Yeah, sure."

"Hutch?"

"Hmm?"

"Merry Christmas"

"Yeah, buddy… Merry Christmas to you too."

Starsky quietly watched his friend for a moment. He had a clearer idea of what had caused Hutch to be so anti –Christmas. And he had a pretty good idea of how to shake him out of his mood. He took a deep breath and began to sing, "Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg-"

Hutch removed his arm from his eyes and slowly sat up.

Starsky waited for Hutch to complain. Expected it. But sometimes, just sometimes, Hutch did the unexpected.

"-The Batmobile popped a wheel and the commissioner broke his leg." The blond grinned at him.

By the time the two paramedics returned, the pair were embroiled the second chorus of that song.

**The End. **


End file.
